


Truth and Choices

by Musicalrain



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Asexual Character, Discussion of Abortion, Enchanter Bethany Hawke, F/M, Family, Gen, Templar Carver Hawke, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 19:58:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3460064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Musicalrain/pseuds/Musicalrain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brightly Hawke is floored by an overwhelming sense of protective sisterly instincts and an inconsistent moral compass when Carver confides in her Bethany's secret. An AU where Carver and Bethany both live and find their respective places in Kirkwall's Circle. A tale of questioning life, duty, and the boundaries of familial love. Explores topics of asexuality, unplanned pregnancy, and abortion. Dark themes. Rated a hard T. Set Act II before Leandra's death. Asexual F!Hawke. Carver/Merrill. Bethany/Keran.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truth and Choices

"Can I tell you something?"

Hawke blinks up from her dinner plate, mostly consisting of a few stray vegetables and a crust of bread as far in their meal as they are, and she regards her brother with a questioning tilt to her brow. Leandra hadn't joined them for the meal, as much as she would have relished the chance to spend some time with her oft absent son, but she had dinner plans at some Lady So-and-so's scheduled for some time now, and the Lady of the house had opted to dine at that noble's home instead of with her children if merely for appearance's sake. Hawke pushes these wayward thoughts away and meets her brother's gaze steadily with an uneasy curiosity painted brightly on her features. It's one that only such questioning from her brother can draw out.

"What?" She finally replies simply.

"Well, it's, uh," Carver scrapes a hand along the edge of his jaw in a clear show of nerves, and Hawke is quick enough to catch the nervous tremor in his broad fingers. He's uneasy, and it's making Hawke more and more wary with every passing second. "It's, um, bad," he finally spits out, and then all too quickly he rushes through his next sentence. "But you have to promise not to tell Mother!"

It's so juvenile, the request, and so like Carver that Hawke can't quite restrain the fond smile pulling at her lips. "Do I want to know?" She drawls by way of reply.

"I want you to know," he admits quietly and visibly deflates while he looks down at his own near-empty plate. The shift in mood, as quick and drastic as it is has Hawke's worry budding up again. "Bethany told me not to tell anyone, but I... She asked me for help, and I can't." He looks up at his elder sister and pleads with his own worry creasing the lines of his face. "You _have_ to promise not to tell. Bethany, she... Mother can't know."

The smile Hawke reserves for her brother is a distant memory on her face while she meets Carver's gaze. Does she want to know? She'd asked that question as much for Carver as she did for herself – as a way to back out of whatever bleak place this conversation is leading to. Carver, as much as he is juvenile, he is honest, startlingly so. If it's bad, it's _bad_ enough to rock the warrior and the Templar her brother has become into a mess of nerves. And it involves Bethany and something the sweet girl has seemingly entrusted to only Carver's knowledge, and not _her sister_. The pain of that thought is enough to cause Hawke to reach up and rub at her chest as if to physically steam the hurt and tiny feeling of betrayal from taking root in her heart. She used to be so close to her sister, to both her siblings, but since Bethany was taken away and Carver was the only one to follow her into the depths of Meredith's domain, they've been more distant. She knows some small part of Bethany must blame her sister for her being taken by the Templars, and it's caused a rift between the two. The twins are as close as they've ever been, and Hawke's connection to her siblings has been reduced to mere letters and short and sparse visits at the estate and the Gallows. It's painful, but this conversation is painful in a different way.

"What is it, Carver?" She asks softly, drawing each word out with the trepidation she feels. She doesn't want to know, she wants to be blissfully unaware of whatever terrible thing has happened to her dear sweet sister, but at the same time she also _wants_ to know with such a strong intensity so she can _do_ something about it. Hawke's a fixer, that's just who she is.

"Do you promise?" He asks insistently again.

Hawke sighs a sad little sound and scrubs a hand across her face. "I can't promise that unless I know what it is we're speaking of." There must be a good reason for Bethany to not only keep this from her sister, but to also keep this from her mother. Regardless of what it may or may not be concerning, and how poorly their mother would take it if she'd learned of whatever this is, Hawke can't make that promise to Carver. Leandra's prone to dramatics and letting things stew in that head of hers for far too long, but she also cares for her children in her own way. Hawke can't determine how much Leandra should or shouldn't be involved in whatever it is that's going on, without knowing of it herself first. She also rationalizes to herself that Carver _must_ know that she would never intentionally do something to harm their sister. If it turns out that Hawke agrees that Leandra should be left out of it, she'd honor his promise to spare their sister any trouble their mother's involvement may bring.

What she'd said seems to be enough for Carver though, because he blurts, "Bethany's pregnant!"

Whatever it was that Hawke thought it would be, she'd never had thought that. The shock, it's all consuming and has Hawke firmly in the grasp of silence. At her speechlessness, Carver continues a bit breathy, a bit fast as if he's kept this knowledge under wraps for far too long for his own good, and a few pitches too high in his clear worry for their sister. "She's eleven weeks, the healer said. He'd said the babies would need flushed from her womb with an elixir of Andraste's Grace and deathroot."

Admittedly Hawke blinks a bit too slowly as she processes this, but the first clear thought she has hits her with the force of a war-hammer. And she's been hit by one of those enough times that she's now intimate with the feeling. "Wait. _Babies?!_ As in _plural_? _"_ She blurts and can feel the color drain from her face.

Carver nods solemnly. "They're twins," he nearly whispers.

Her next thought isn't _'Who the fuck touched Bethany'_ , no, that's her next, but rather it's the sad cursing in her head that damnable _twins_ runs in their family. It's bad enough that Bethany's a Circle mage and _pregnant_ , but she's pregnant with _two_. Gamlen was a twin, but she knows the Uncle her mother never mentions had passed to the Maker's side at the young age of fourteen when he was trampled to death by a dwarven merchant's skittish bronto that had gotten loose in the marketplace. She'd heard that little story from Gamlen when he was too far in his cups and she was trying to keep him quiet as her mother slept in the next room of his hovel so long ago. Hawke pushes that disturbing, and rather depressing, memory aside as she struggles to reign in her thoughts.

She looks towards Carver while she attempts to pull her face to an expression resembling normal. "How...?" That's all she can force herself to say. There's so many questions running around in her head that she doesn't know what to settle on to ask first.

Carver seems to decide on a question and answer for her as he makes to speak next, "She'd missed her monthly twice before she'd asked me to get a healer that could be paid to keep quiet." And the fact that _Carver,_ of all people is going about this more calmly than Hawke herself is, has her shocked to silence again. _But,_ she thinks _, he's known longer than me_. Time has seemingly granted Carver acceptance of the situation, and the meager maturity he has shines through as he regales his elder sister with their younger sister's plight. The fact that he hasn't shied away from the topic of _womanly things_ , proves to Hawke that her brother has indeed grown up while he's been away.

"I'd bought him off, cost me more than a month's pay, but... Bethany's asked me to help her get the elixir, but I don't have the coin," he admits with a modicum of self depreciation at the end. She knows Carver would hate not be able to help Bethany, and she's not surprised to see him troubled about it. They may not get along all the time, but Carver's always tried to be the bravest and the most capable of them. The fact that Hawke herself was given the grace of five years ahead of her siblings to grow and develop her own capabilities further than them hasn't deterred Carver from the self-imposed task of surpassing her in these qualities.

Hawke feels her face pull into a severe frown as she takes a moment to consider what he's said. Bethany is trying to get an elixir to 'flush' the babies from her body. _Twins_ , her mind whispers at her, but she pushes that voice and the others in her head screaming at her that her sister has little bits of _life_ , tiny people that could grow and _become_ something inside her, and she wants to 'flush' them. Not have them. Not let them grow. Not give them the chance to _become_ something, someone. But why would Bethany go through with that? No, no. Hawke doesn't even have to ask Carver to see where their sister is coming from, or why she would need such an elixir or why she would want one.

She has no illusions that the babies, _her sister's children_ , would be taken from their mother the moment they breathe their first breath. A Circle mage cannot have children. A Circle mage cannot _keep_ their children. A Circle mage cannot have a _family_.

There's one brilliant moment, so intense that it nearly blinds Hawke in her fury, that she finds herself agreeing with every little thing Anders has ever spit from that blabbering mouth of his and she wants nothing more than to take to her cellars and _demand_ that Anders bring her to his contacts and they _get her sister out of the Gallows_. But, no, Hawke may have been taught the Templar's skills from her father at a young age like Carver, but she was also taught temperance and mastery over herself like Bethany. Carver may not have taken to those lessons well, but she did. She can act calm. She can keep the rushing stream of her thoughts locked behind the dam of her mouth and _think_.

Bethany has obviously already made a final decision regarding _her_ body, and _her_ life within her, and Hawke cannot fault her for it. She won't argue with Carver about it, and she won't try to weasel an explanation from him. He might not even know the true depths of Bethany's thoughts and feelings himself. Bethany's decision is hers and hers only. What her sister does with her life, what choices she makes in the cage of situation and circumstance she has found herself in, is only for her to decide. No one else should even have the right to persuade her one way or another. Not her, not Carver, and definitely not their mother. This is something _she_ must decide on her own, and Bethany _has_.

Hawke can make a choice – she can agree to help Carver help their sister, support Bethany in what surely _cannot_ be an easy choice, or she could pretend she never heard a thing. She could ask Carver not to ever speak of this again with her, ask him to leave her home, but she won't. What Bethany must be going through is nothing short of absolutely terrible, and she won't do that to her, or Carver. Her brother, sitting before her with pain and worry and stress in the pools of his cerulean eyes must be experiencing his share of suffering too. He has been Bethany's only confidant in this, and for him to reach out to Hawke like this tells her that he too could do with someone to trust and lean on. The burden of responsibility on his shoulders must be so great, but for all of his maturity, he is still so young. Hawke may only have five years on him, but she has always felt older than her years and she won't let Carver shoulder the promise of helping their sister on his own. If Hawke backs out, Carver will still be in this, and she won't leave him alone.

She won't leave either of them alone.

Hawke curses silently and closes her eyes and moves to lean her head on the palm of her hand. Who is she kidding? She's already left them alone. When Carver rushed off a mere handful of days after Bethany was taken to the docks to sign his life over to the Templars, _she let him_. She let both of her siblings go and fend for themselves, and her mother surely has never forgiven her for it. She had told herself at the time that they were adults now, still in their teens but with nearly two decades on them, and that they were old enough and capable enough to make their own choices. Not that Bethany had much in the way of choices, but Carver did. And he had wanted to find a place within this world on his own anyway, hadn't he?

"I told Merrill," Carver says at length if only to fill the silence.

"Merrill knows?" Hawke asks in disbelief. That pain in her chest has returned, that twinge of betrayal, but she wills it away. Merrill knew before her. Merrill _knows_ , and just how long has Hawke been left in the dark while Carver confided in _Merrill first_?

Trying to conceal her heartbreak, because it's ridiculous – Carver and Merrill are involved and so _of course_ he'd tell her – and it's foolish, Hawke fumbles and reaches for her brother's hand to anchor herself and offer comfort. He frowns and explains, "I- She's my... I _had_ to tell someone." He pauses and gathers himself, "I couldn't keep it in, and, well... Merrill wants to tell Mother. She chats with her on her way to Gamlen's every week, and she... she thinks Mother should know. She thinks she could help, because she's a mother and our mother, but I... Bethany doesn't want Mother to know."

_Bethany didn't want me to know either_ , Hawke thinks but shoos such bitter thoughts away. She's helping. She's trying to be a good sister and _help_ , if nothing else. "Have you told Merrill this?" Hawke asks with a calm she doesn't quite feel. If Merrill blabbers and tells _Mother_ and whomever else _,_ because she knows the elf cannot keep a secret on pain of death, then _everyone_ will know – including one Knight-Commander Meredith. Hawke doesn't want to think of what could happen if Meredith knew.

" _Yes_ , Bri, but she still wants to tell her," Carver says with a severity in both his words and expression.

'Bri', the pet-name the twins bestowed on her when they were nothing more than tots because 'Brightly' was too much of a mouthful for them. Hawke was named Brightly because she was the first spark of light in her parent's hard won lives of freedom, or so her father used to tell her. It saddens Hawke more than words can express to know that Bethany will never be able to experience the profound bliss and rapture of gazing upon her first child as they open their eyes for the first time. Hawke has never known the feeling herself, but she has recognized it on the faces of new parents. And because of this, she can't help but wonder just how many women in the Circle have faced similar decisions, and she wonders what it is that they chose for themselves.

"I'll speak with Merrill." Carver looks about ready to argue, and so Hawke raises the hand that had held his to cut him off. "I won't be rude, just... tactful," she promises. "Merrill listens to me, and maybe having someone other than her lover tell her 'no' will be enough to convince her not to involve herself in something so... difficult."

Carver frowns but nods, and so Hawke takes that as acceptance. She braces herself before asking the one question that has been insistently rattling around her brain. "Why didn't Bethany want me to know?"

"Because, you know how you are about sex-" he starts to explain awkwardly, but Hawke cuts him off in a sudden show of anger.

"It's not like that," she snaps. "Just because I don't want _that_ , doesn't mean I can't understand these kinds of things. I'm surrounded by people who aren't like me in that regard, and so I can't _not_ know how these things are. I'm not upset that Bethany's having sex – I'm upset that she didn't trust me enough to tell me she's _pregnant_."

"I know," Carver raises his hands to fend off his elder sister's wrath, "Void take it, but Merrill even understands all that better than me, but I'm just saying... that might be why Bethany didn't want you to know."

Hawke closes her eyes against the knowledge that Carver's discussed her sexuality with Merrill when _she_ hasn't mentioned a word of it to the elf herself. It's personal, and it hurts a little to know that her brother would betray her confidence like that, even if she's never explicitly said that she didn't want him to talk about it at all. It's not like Hawke's _ashamed_ of who she is, it's just that the majority of people don't, or can't, understand. Hawke, as brave as she is with a sword and shield in her grasp, is afraid of the looks and damaging opinions that people can throw without provocation when they learn of something that isn't the norm about a person. Blighted Maker's shite, but if she was a cross-dressing prostitute people would be more accepting of that than the reality of her not desiring a cock or fingers between her legs. She is a firm believer that people just don't understand how hurtful words can be, that a few ill uttered sentences can cut a person sharper than any knife, and so she has always tried not to say anything damaging to a person herself. Sometimes it's more than a little difficult, but she has no volition against feigning interest or polite geniality to some asshat or another so long as she gets what she wants or needs in the end. These encounters with random asshats are temporary and meaningless at large, and so she doesn't put much stock in smiling or acting nice to a right bastard, but her family and friends matter more. Her siblings matter the most, and she won't be false with them.

"Regardless," Hawke starts and continues after gathering herself a bit more, "I know now." At Carver's panicked look, she's quick to assure him, "I won't say anything about your breaking Bethany's promise. If Merrill or Bethany or anyone asks, I'll just say I found out from a contact in the Gallows."

"So you'll help?"

"Yeah, but I want to speak with Bethany first." Not to convince her against her own decisions, but to make sure her sister is _okay_. Hawke can barely fathom what she must be feeling, or how she's handling all of this. She wants to ensure her sister is hale in hole in both mind and body before she helps her with her choice.

Carver nods, "I can arrange that." He pauses a bit, "Who's your contact in the Gallows? Other than me, that is."

Hawke shrugs, "Ser Keran." And as Carver's eyebrows try to disappear into his hairline, Hawke narrows her eyes at her brother much like their shared namesake. "What is it?" She grits out with a weary combination of emotions from the strange reaction of her brother.

"He's..." Carver clears his throat and looks like he'd like nothing but to _not_ be sitting across from Hawke right then. "He's the father," he finishes with the words running together, but Hawke hears them as clearly as a bell's toll.

Just how many times has she seen that boy at the docks, in Lowtown, at the Gallows, and he's not said a word to her? No rather untactful 'I'm sleeping with your sister' or her favorite her mind's conjured up yet 'I'm a Templar with a mage fetish, I know original, right?'. Now, Hawke chastises herself, it's entirely possible that Keran and Bethany have a mutual caring and loving relationship and they just had an accident. Anything could've happened that resulted in this situation, well, one thing _did_ happen. No, no. Hawke _is not_ thinking about her sister's sex life.

Clearing her mind, Hawke considers that Keran's always come off to her as a good sort. She wouldn't have him as a back-up contact in the Gallows for anything too indelicate that she knows her brother would opt out on informing her of, if he wasn't a good person. This isn't betrayal she feels, it's just protective instinct. The fact that she has the sudden clawing desire to search Keran out and punch him square in the jaw is irrational, and not something she should do. Or something she's trying _very hard_ to convince herself not to do.

"Oh, Maker," she groans and scrubs a hand across her brow again. "Does he know?" She asks haltingly.

"Yeah," Carver breathes. "He was there with me and the healer. Helped me pay him off too. The man was expensive for someone who can't spend it on anything good, being stuck in the Circle and all." Carver's smile is a brittle thing when she removes her hand from her eyes, and she watches as it falls from his lips just as quickly as it appeared. "Keran was crying," Carver says while he looks down at his plate again and fiddles with the nearly forgotten fork in his grasp. "Bethany wasn't even crying, but he was."

_That was because of the shock, the trauma,_ Hawke thinks to herself, _Bethany was trying to be strong._ But instead, all Hawke says is a quiet, "Oh," and looks away from the troubled expression on her brother's face. "When does she need the elixir?" She asks and lets the hammer fall.

"She wants to do it on the seventh. It's the soonest she'll have enough time to herself to do it," Carver grounds out in a labored breath, evidence of the stress he must be feeling over it all. Hawke can only imagine that his emotions and thoughts are just as scrambled as hers because of this... this choice that sweet Bethany should have never had to make in her entire life. Hawke tries to tell herself it's not guilt she feels, not guilt because she wasn't there for her sister, wasn't there to protect her from all the darkness life tries to smother you with. She just doesn't really know what she feels.

Hawke does a quick calculation in her head and looks towards Carver again, "That's in a week."

Carver nods, "Merrill wants to tell Mother when she sees her next – in a couple days."

Hawke grits her teeth in irritation and looks away again. Of _course_ Merrill would unknowingly put more stress on an already impossibly stressful situation. Hawke will have to speak with her tonight if she wants any assurance that Merrill will give up on this quest of hers before that time. She could go with Carver to the Allienage. Maybe if Carver's there, he can offer some support to the elf so she won't feel as if Hawke's cornering her. The last thing Hawke wants is to upset Merrill, but she wants to make sure the Dalish woman won't do anything incredibly foolish. And she knows that Carver won't outright tell the elf to shove it, even if the request is sugar-coated. "I'll go with you tonight to her house," she tells her brother and finally relents to his one request, "and I won't tell Mother." If their mother is to find out, Bethany's the one that should tell her, and no one else should do that for her. It's Bethany's decision, and if she's so insistent on their mother not knowing, by evidence of Carver's constant concern, Hawke won't tell.

Carver visibly relaxes, "Thanks."

Hawke nods and slowly stands from the dinner table with all the emotional weight of a house on her shoulders. When she follows her brother to the weapons and armor racks to don their equipment for the late-night stroll through Kirkwall's less than stellar streets, she tells herself that she's not helping her sister destroy little lives, but rather helping her prevent any future loss and pain. She tells herself that she's not imagining what children between her sister and Keran would look like, and that she's not wondering what their names might have been or who they would have become. She chases those thoughts away as quickly as they come, and the painful clenching of her heart they cause, and she tells herself that she will be strong for Bethany. This is Bethany's choice, not hers or anyone else's. Bethany has her reasons, and she won't doubt her. She will be there to support her sister as she's always wanted and tried to do, and she won't question her choice. Hawke finds comfort in the decision that she will seek out the Chantry Sister who holds sermons at the Gallows and ask her to speak with her sister and keep an eye on her well being, for as long as it takes for her to be reassured that Bethany is doing well, all things considered. She resolves herself in the choice that she will help Bethany, and that she will make sure she is as well as she can be after it is done. If Bethany needs a shoulder to cry on, or a comforting embrace, she will try her damnedest to be there for her. She'll attempt to bridge the gap made of time and circumstance between her and her sister, and she will be supportive of her. It's all Hawke can do.

**Author's Note:**

> Brightly Hawke was challenging to write, but this story needed written. I may continue to write in this world as things, well, continue in my RL. This story is heavily based on recent events in my RL, and writing it has been therapeutic. For my TE readers, I'm sorry but I couldn't exactly focus on an update with these thoughts running about. Brightly is an OC and not a SI, and so there are some notable differences to my SI in my fic Truly Existing. Thanks to anyone who reads and such! You're all the best!


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